Restless
by The Mighty Trubbish
Summary: This world is boring. Its the same monotonous grind, day-in and day-out. And I can't help but be like the very people I hate. My life is what I made it, complete and utter trash. I've never amounted to anything and continue to live in my younger brothers shadow. I want to change, myself and this world. And maybe it is my time to do exactly that. A Pokemon Fan-fiction. Accepting OCs
1. Boredom

A gentle breeze drifts by like a stranger, its refreshing and leaves nothing behind except a simple "howdy do," warm sunlight shines in between a canopy of jade leafs, casting a hue of emerald along the soft and earthy soil. I rejoice in the cool and simple feel of grass cusped in my hand, once again I relax my head onto a worn and tender root. Easing into it, I have no direction to look but up. Above me is the outstretched limbs of a hundred year old oak, massive in nature; I couldn't help but think of Atlas holding up the sky to protect earth from its weight. Several avian species hop and glide from branch to branch, chirping their individual songs in joyous melody.

"This world… This world is boring," I mutter under my breath. I'm sick of the same routine everyday, wake up, do nothing, eat breakfast, pretend I care about my neighbors problems, go shopping for toiletries or groceries, eat lunch, clean, work, come home late, eat dinner, sleep. It never changes, day-in and day-out the same and futile grind.

This is my life, the peak of youth, the happiest time of my life. It's a pitiful excuse for existence, but at least it is mine. Almost on cue, my phone blasts its obnoxious alarm. I sit up and turn it off. I take another look around me, at the pleasant scenery of my own hidden grove. The trees, the flora, the shrubbery, and low glow of sun and plethora of shade, peaceful beauty.

"Boring," I sigh.

I drag my feet, making my way along the beaten path in between the tall grass exit the open space and walk into a dense forest, trees are spaced less than three feet from one another and erect sporadically from the ground, each piercing the sky with their unimaginable height. Their age would make it impossible for new and young sprouts to live, hidden from the sun under their downcast shadows, the old generation have ruined the chances for the new. Eventually this forest will be nothing because of their selfishness. This is how the world works after all.

I haven't seen much wildlife today, the multiple species have seemed to disappear, except for the plethora of avian pokemon that litter the skies and the branches above. However the ground dwellers don't aimlessly ramble about the forest between the trunks of the trees like they usually do. I find this especially strange since the local forests are seemingly overpopulated with the useless plump mouse pokemon bidoof. They must have burrowed down in their nests.

It couldn't be because of the approaching winter, it's June for christ sake. Perhaps some natural phenomenon? If that sort of thing happens to bidoof, they aren't the most naturally inclined pokemon after all. I shake off the creeping notion of worry and think of something else, but that doesn't help much. I break from the dense forest and walk onto the outskirts of town.

* * *

Twinleaf isn't a bad place to grow up, the small secluded country town is ideal for raising children. Everyone knows everyone else and lifetime friends are decided almost at birth. I remember the countless summers of food festivals, playing until the sun went down, chasing the glowing rears of volbeat at night, and spending endless hours down by the creek trying to fish up some magikarp. It was peaceful, monotonously so.

I headed towards home, it is a simple two story home painted brown just like all the rest in town. I reach the door, but am stopped from entering by my neighbor. Her small frame physically stands in between me and the door, from where she came from I have no idea.

"Hey Al!" She greets with a smile.

"What do you want?" I ask cutting pleasantries.

She puffs out a cheek in a pout, "No need to be rude, I just wanted to talk."

"Talk about what exactly?" I ask. I don't really care about the topic, but last time we "talked" she got drunk in my living room and ranted about how men are pigs. I don't want to go through that a seventh time.

She brushed a curl of her long chocolate brown hair aside from her face and offered me a smile, having her brown eyes met my own.

"Well there is a party tonight at Lake Verity Beach and I was wondering if you wanted to go," she says leaning against my door.

"No thanks," I say trying to brush past her and get through my door but she stops me with her hand.

"I don't think you understood me, will you go to the party tonight with me as your date?" She asks.

"I understood you, I just don't want to go," I say emotion absent from my voice.

"And why not?" Her smile had been replaced with a frown and her hands went directly to her hips.

"Getting drunk and then doing nothing while being drunk doesn't sound like a good time to me," I say.

She gives me a glare, "It's not like you have anything better to do."

"I have work," I say.

"You can work tomorrow," she argues.

"I can work tonight and tomorrow," I say without losing a beat. She lets out a groan and stomps her foot on the ground.

"Will you do it for me as a favor?" She asks, a last ditch attempt to drag me with her to the party.

However, her persistence wasn't actually to get me to go in particular, I was probably at the bottom of her list of people to want to go out with on a date. She probably has ulterior motives.

"No," I say pushing past her and opening my own door to enter my own house. I wasn't surprised that she followed me.

"Albert? Is that you?" my mom calls out from somewhere in the house, I can already hear her footsteps making echoing down the hall, she was on her way.

"Yeah mom," I call back.

"Hello Mrs. Russel!" My neighbor calls out from behind me. My mom walks into the living room, she is a small lady, with short brown hair that falls to her neck and warm and friendly brown eyes.

She wipes her wet hands on her apron as she talks, "Oh hello Samantha. What brings me the pleasure of your visit this evening?"

Samantha smiles her crooked smile, but I speak before she has a chance to, "She just came by to say hi, she has to go though, busy day." I push her towards the door and manage to get her into the doorway.

"Mrs. Russel, Al doesn't want to take a pretty girl like me out on a date!" She exclaims. I push her farther out and slam the door shut. That damn Samantha knows my mom's weak point.

"Just ignore her, she is crazy. I'm going to go get ready for work," I say walking past my mother and beginning my ascension of the stairs. My mother hadn't heeded my words, since I could hear the opening and closing of the front door along with the customary, "Hello." I let out a puff of air in disapproval, this wasn't going to be worth the trouble.

I push open the door to my room and toss the contents of my pockets onto my bed, a pack of gum, some crumpled up cash, and my phone. I proceed my way to my own private bathroom, peeling of my plain black tee before doing so. I stop however before entering, a neatly wrapped gift sits tall on my desk next to it is a card. I toss my shirt in the general direction of my hamper and quickly work my hands around the wrapping. I then shred it to pieces, uncovering the white box underneath. I easily open it and pull out the contents.

Surrounded by glass, under an artificial light, sitting on a pillow, rests a large egg. It's shell is generic tan with blotches of navy blue here and there, a pokemon egg, no doubt. I didn't have to read the card to know who it was from, it had to be my brother.

Within the card was a brief note, it read:

_Hey bro! One of my pokemon recently had this egg. I figured you wouldn't mind taking care of it for me. Hahaha. _

_Much love, _

_Barry. _

_P.S. It should hatch any day now._

I crumpled up the note and tossed it into a nearby waste basket, my brother has always done things like this. He just assumes I have nothing better to do than raise an egg and always acts on any damn idea that pops in his head. Of course he is right about me having nothing to do, but still he is a little asshole.

I sigh, I might as well hatch it, maybe I can sell it for some quick cash later. He could of at least told me what pokemon it would hatch into. My thoughts drifted to orient themselves around my younger brother. The hyperactive blond left three years ago with his buddy to be pokemon trainers and he seems to be making a name for himself, both of them actually.

Last I heard, my brother's friend is on track to being the champion of Sinnoh, having taken down the first two elite four members. It is strange to think about the silent boy that used to sit patiently next to my brother as he raged about some money making scheme. I never thought he would be as successful as he is.

Barry however, is trying his hand at the battle frontier. He is doing fairly well, from what I see on TV from time to time. I wonder if he has battled father yet. I make my way to the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. My body is uniform, my face is big, my shoulders are wide, my chest is puffed out, my hands are like baseball mitts, and my stomach is round. I'm muscular, when I flex, but when I don't my body just looks soft.

I run a hand through my dark black hair. It is perhaps a little overgrown, being its usual untamable self with random knots of hair and spiked cowlicks, falling over my eyes like a drape. I look into my own dull brown eyes and frown in disappointment. Unlike my brother, I had done nothing with my life. Not that I really wanted to, but in retrospect I could have done a little more.

I turn on the shower and jump in, having peeled of the rest of my clothes prior. I work at the local pokemart as a store clerk, I make minimum wage and am there for about five hours every day, every week. I currently have 500 poke in my bank and owe my mom 3000 poke in rent. My life isn't what I expected it to be, but then again I hadn't had much expectations.

The water is warm and nice on my skin.

I'm not jealous of my brother for his success, I just wish that I did something to be better. I don't care that I live in his shadow, especially in the eyes of my parents. I do want them to look at me with the same pride. My thoughts drift to the horrible conversation going on downstairs this very moment.

Samantha will have my mom around her very finger, and ergo have me around her finger as well. I really don't want to go to the beach, but I feel like it won't be my choice soon. I turn off the shower and exit wet. Wrapping a towel around my body as I walk. Quickly I get dressed, khaki pants, a plain white shirt, and a blue apron.

I suppose it is time to face the inevitable. I look at the egg one more time and figure it is good where it is. I leave my room and make my way downstairs. My mom sits on the couch wearing an obvious scowl, a plus is that Samantha is gone.

"You're going to that party," are the first words that come out of my mom's mouth.

"No," I say. My mom looks me in the eye, she is a terrifying woman. She takes in a deep breath and lets it out with a huff.

"You are going to that party," she says holding her ground.

"I don't want to," I say.

"How do you expect to meet women?" She asks. Here we go.

"I'm not looking to meet women right now," I say.

"Well I want grandchildren and you are eighteen for Christ's sake! You aren't on an adventure like your brother and frankly have nothing else going on! So why not meet some girls and give me grandchildren?" She snaps.

"Because I'm eighteen and don't want a kid," I say also standing my ground.

"Do you hear yourself?" She cries. I think she should listen to herself.

"Yes, that is how ears perceive things," I say.

"You either go to the party with Samantha at eight or you move out!" My mom wins the argument.

"Fine," I give in. My mom is unreasonable, but she means well in her head. Its the thought that counts I guess. Without another word, I leave and venture the short five minute walk to the pokemart.

* * *

The blue roofed building is new to Twinleaf, having been built last year for access to any trainers in the area. I found this strange, since trainers would have to travel out of their ways, and I mean way out of their ways to even visit Twinleaf. Especially since the town's main attraction, Lake Verity, can be visited without the need to actually visit our small town. Whatever, employment is employment.

I work behind the main counter and my responsibilities include greeting customers, if there is any, and check out the items they wish to purchase. It is a good gig, most of the time no one comes in, so most of the time I get to read or do nothing. Both are pleasant, especially if I get paid for it.

I kick my legs up on the counter and balance the stool underneath my ass on one leg. I pull out one of my books from within the counter and resume from the last place I read.

The book is interesting, instead of a normal writing format, it consists a series of fictional letters that the main character sends to an anonymous person. The character offers a fresh perspective on what it is like to be different and unnoticed, always noticing the falsities in other peoples lives and his own and trying to make sense of it all. He suffers from his own introverted-ness and desperately wants to shed it off and find a place in his crazy messed up world.

I've read it at least twenty times.

"Good book?" a girl asks. I hadn't noticed her come in, which is strange since she would've had to walked right past me and I usually don't miss people. I set down the book and eye the customer curiously. She isn't what you would call normal, in a small town like Twinleaf anyways.

For starters her hair is silver. I don't mean a fancy gray or even the aged depressed hair that most elderly people have. I mean it was like she melted down actual silver and made a wig out of it, but it is too soft, glossy, and wavy to be actual metal. It certainly isn't natural, but it almost fooled me.

Her skin is pale and her eyes are an abstract red, if my suspicions are right they are most likely contacts. She is shorter than me, but tall for a girl, thin, but muscular. Definite signs of a trainer. Her choice of clothes can only be described as open, her shirt is cut high to stop only an inch under her bosom, exposing her belly button. And yes it is pierced.

Her jeans are just as special, one pant leg had been completely cut off, and the pant leg had been drawn on with a sharpe. I find her interesting, and I think that is the point frankly.

"It's great," I say snapping it shut and stuffing it away. She places all of her intended purchases on the counter. Twenty pokeballs, ten potion, and a protein bar. I begin running it under the scanner.

"So, where're you from?" I ask.

"Castelia city," she says bland and uninterested. That explains the clothes and hair, Castelia is like a hive for that type of fashion.

"What brings you to town?" I ask.

She gives me an uninterested look, cocking back her eyebrow.

"I came to see the lake," she says. I knew the answer, but I figured I'd ask to be friendly. There is no other reason to visit Twinleaf.

"Your total is 7050 poke," I say, finishing up our brief meeting. She hands me a pile of neat bills of exact cash, grabs her things, and leaves. With nothing to do I rest back into my stool and being to read again.

* * *

Eight o'clock comes fast.

I got off work early and shut down the shop, early enough to make it home, argue with my mom one more time, lose, and get changed. Samantha arrives on time to my dismay, but I guess I can't turn back now. Like that would have been my choice anyways.

I loosen the tie around my neck, it is a bright teal, and pops compared to my black shirt. My mom had insisted on me wearing it, I don't like ties. I wonder if the guy who came up with ties was trying to hang himself, but looked in the mirror and decided that this was style.

She grabs my arm and hoists me away from my home, so that we could walk in silence for thirty minutes to the lake. We hear the music before seeing anything, it is some horrible hip hop pop crap sensation. The party consists of a grand total of thirty young adults, all around my age, the oldest being twenty and the youngest fifteen.

Samantha drags me over to a group of boys, one of which is her ex-boyfriend, Patrick. Patrick is a young attractive blond that knows he is attractive so he uses the advantage to try and fuck every female with a pulse. That is all I know about Patrick really. I assume all his friends act the same way, especially with the looks they gave off when Samantha walked up.

"Hello Patrick," Samantha smiled. Patrick offered her a nod and sent a glare in my direction. I took it and offered one of my own; a face that says I don't give a fuck about you.

"Who's the stiff?" Patrick asks.

"My boyfriend," Samantha starts, but I cut her off.

"I'm not your boyfriend," I say. She elbows me in the ribs, it was a laughable intent. She is too small to do any damage, it felt like a tickle.

"He's a friend," she says.

"We aren't friends," I say, she hits me in the ribs again. Still doesn't hurt.

"We're neighbors," she puffs out with a lost smile. Patrick looks at me with a questionable look, he is too stupid to understand what is going on. I guess that years of drinking, smoking, and humping isn't good for the brain.

"She brought me here to make you jealous," I say blank. Patrick gives Samantha a look of confusion, she tries to not seeth anger. I don't get her problem, I saved us time by cutting all the useless talk that would eventually lead to her ditching me to go home with Patrick. This way she can just do it now and save me the trouble of a boring conversation with meat heads.

"I'm going to get soda," I say walking away from the group. There isn't much to chose from in the cooler, most of the beverages are alcoholic and the only soda I could find was a Sprite. I grab it and walk away from the party goers, who are currently humping each other on the beach to music, call it dancing if you will.

I rest my head back against a tree and look out to the lake, the water is still and calm.

Earth must be purgatory, the monotonous boredom that wrecks havoc among the surface is enough to prove my point, the people of this planet are brainwashed into doing the same thing for the rest of their lives and following what others do instead of taking risks to change. I can't say I am much different, I do the same thing, but I can blame it on my nature and the nature of this world.

I wonder what Heaven and Hell would be like, if there is a Heaven or Hell. Maybe the reason we can't really perceive these places or ideas or whatever, is because we are a product of our environment, and our conforming mindset can't even begin to contemplate.

I wonder if we ever will be able to, or if we even want to try.

In an instant the world around me exploded. Human debris flew into the air, arms, legs, and who know what else. Each landing on the sand in pools of their own blood, fleshy bits slapping against the now drenched red sand. They had died in a flash, the source of the explosion is no where to be seen.

For a moment, the surviving few stare in blank awe, then erupted into screams of terror and panic. They scrambled for the tree line and the path towards town. I watched as another was blown to bits by some unseen entity. His body ripped itself apart, separating into five pieces and becoming nothing more than a bloodied mess of limbs.

The lake water rockets upwards in a pillar, killing the once glassy waters calm. Tons of water crashed down, flooding the beach. And from the pillar floated a small figure, energy fell off it in waves.

I hear a cry in panic and fear. I see Samantha hanging over Patrick, or what used to be Patrick. He is like the rest. She wails her sorrow and fear and pity and anger, but it comes to a stop. Some unseen hand snaps her neck and just like that she is dead.

The figure hovers above the water's edge, watching the carnage unfold, the being seems pleased with itself. I feel like I have seen the pokemon before, it has this odd familiarity to it.

Twin gray tails hang from its small and round body, its skin is a sickly gray and from where I am seems leathery. Its head seems to be heavier its entire body. Four pink furred antenna sprout from the top of its head and drape over a ruby like jewel embedded in its skull.

A shiver goes down my spine, I know why it seems so familiar. Its the Mespirt, yes the as in singular. A god-like pokemon that is said to protect the lake and all those who inhabit around it. I don't think it is really doing a good job.

I feel the vile rear its ugly head in my throat, and soon I can't control myself. I vomit until my stomach is empty, all that remains on the beach is death and blood stained sand. I haven't seen so much red in my life.

My face is hot, I hadn't realized I was crying. I look at our protector and anger swells itself in my body, it is involuntary. I have no idea where it could have possibly came from, but it was the angriest I have ever been. It was like I was being provoked and I had no control of my body.

I find myself screaming, "Why would you do this!?"

The Mesprit warps and is in front of me, fear takes place of anger. The pokemon in front of me seems to be relishing in it. I meet its milky pink eyes and a splitting headache brings me to my knees. I hear the screams of countless people, each a scream of anger, fear, and sorrow, and in that moment I know I am screaming like them.

I can't control it, images of war, carnage, death, flood my mind. It is putting them there. It is too much to handle, the pain is now searing, as if the beast had begun to rip my brain apart. I shut down, and darkness begins to overtake my mind and everything begins to blur.

"This world is boring."

* * *

**AN: How did you like the main character? What did you hate about the first chapter? What did you like?**

OC form on my account. 


	2. Denial

I read a story once about a man who hated his neighbor. He hated his neighbor so much that many times he had fantasized about killing him, and despite how many times I read the short story I couldn't understand why. Eventually the man killed his neighbor and hid his body in a barrel of wine. I definitely don't know why he killed his neighbor, granted he was a pompous douche, but I don't think that just warrants killing someone. Actually, what gives us the right to kill someone at all? Is there a right, or a situation that permits murder?

I wonder.

My first conscious thoughts revolved around the spiked pain that seemed to echo throughout my body and pulse from my skull. My next few thoughts wondered where I was, that is when I remembered. Severed limbs, cries of terror, blood, so much blood, and Samantha's neck suddenly doing a three-sixty.

My stomach had found more contents for me to throw up. The beach is now deserted, crumpled and mangled bodies lay in a strange mud of blood infused sand. I stumble to Samantha's body, she looks like her normal self, except for the elephant in the room. Her small frame, her trendy clothes, her pale skin, her brown eyes, and long curly brown hair. Her collarbone seems to jutt against the inside of her skin, stretching it, to a point that it might just rip. Her lips are open in a half scream of anger and another half shock, matching the glazed over look in her eyes. I push her body off of the slush under her and close her eyes like they do in the movies, symbolizing eternal sleep. But it doesn't look the same, her head is in too odd an angle.

The slush is just a mesh of body, as if the person it had once been had been turned inside out and ripped apart simultaneously. I inspect one of the arms, through the fleshy consistency of muscle and skin I can see the pure white of his bone. It hadn't been a clean separation, in fact, from all the splintering and shrapnel of bone in his arm it seemed like it had blown up from _inside _the marrow.

"Patrick," I mumble. My body is in shock and I can't stop the shivers that run up and down my spine. I take in a deep and long breathe, even the air tastes of blood.

Why am I alive? Out of all these people, why am I the only one still alive? Why? I was definitely going to die, I felt it in the creature. It desperately wanted to kill me, and I was in so much pain I wished it just would. And then I would be free from the pain, the loneliness, the boredom, the obligation, everything. Why hadn't it killed me?

No, why am I disappointed that it didn't?

They say the deepest and darkest emotions of your life are brought out by life or death situations, and how you react is who you really are, I hadn't bought it. I had thought that I knew who I was, especially when shit hit the fan, a cowering wimp asking for death wasn't exactly what I pictured. I wasn't going to pretend to be some action hero or some crazy shit like that, but I thought I'd handle myself with more grace.

No matter how hard I tried fighting back my tears, they just came rushing, I sat down. I sat down on a beach and cried. I sat down on a beach littered with dead bodies and cried. I sat down on a beach, soaked in blood from all the dead bodies, next to my neighbor whose neck had been snapped and boyfriend had been blown up from the inside out.

And I cried.

I held myself there and placed my head between my knees and just let the tears poor. I let my fear take over me and I pitied myself. Not those who had died, but myself. For being in this situation and wanting to die and not wanting to die at the same time. For being surrounded by my dead neighbors and peers whom I had known all my life. I pitied myself for pitying myself. And all I want is for it to stop.

I hear screams, at first I think they are just in my head, but they get louder and more panicked as time progressed, then explosive snaps and cracks fill the still air with noise. The Mesprit must have moved on, being done with its rampage here. I look over the surrounding tree tops, smoke rises in a single and giant columb. Its coming from town.

The people who I had grown up with, the people I loved but hadn't realized, are in danger. Yet, I couldn't move. My body stayed weighted to the ground, as if all my weight had condensed into a small point and then pitted itself in my stomach, I can't move. I don't want to move. Even if there was something for me to do, someone to help, I won't do it. I don't want to die like they will, like cattle ready for the slaughter.

Isn't it strange how easily we can switch?

"I'm sorry mom, I'm so sorry," I cried into my arm. I had already wrote her off as dead. The woman that had raised me, the woman I love dearly, and I had already decided she was a lost cause.

At some point I had fallen asleep.

* * *

I woke up feeling hollow and cold. The weight that had been pushing me down was gone, but left stress in my body, I am still shaking. Standing up, I look around me, morning had come and with it came a settled thick white fog that clung close to the ground, it almost hide the bodies. The morning sky is overcast, sollum gray clouds drift with their swollen bellies filled to the brim with water, threatening rain.

My world felt gray, if colors could be feelings, my mind was at a middle ground. The world I thought I knew, the world I thought I hated, changed, into something worse. I drag my feet and walk slowly on the familiar path back to town, the same path I used to trek almost daily as a child. Except this path is somehow different, and I fear it will take me somewhere that was never my home.

I walk, numb, conscious of my own consciousness and not much else. Definitely not the broken crumpled bodies that lay dead in the grass, or the smell of burning meat, definitely not flesh. Definitely.

Twinleaf is foreign to me, like some alien planet that had once looked like my home, felt like my home, and even was my home. Maybe I mean an alternate reality, because this is how I felt, it couldn't be real.

A bad acid trip. Except I hadn't taken acid, ever.

"Maybe someone slipped it into my drink," I mumble to myself, only partially aware of Ms. Sawyer from down the street's body bent awkwardly against the fence post. No, not bent. _Impaled._

Fire had plagued the old houses and brought them down as fast as the flu, smoke curled into the air and clung softly to the ground. I walk past the childrens park, I can already see the twisted metal of the swing set, and something suspiciously similar to blood. I didn't want to look.

The pokemart had been decimated, the front half completely blown of, almost like the wind had blown it away and left the other half perfectly untouched. I reach my street and pause, looking over the row of houses, some burning, others nothing but splinters. I can't help notice the blotches along the sidewalk.

My thoughts drift back to whether the people of earth had been stuck in purgatory, now the bland yet peaceful beauty seems like heaven, and this must be hell. Heaven and Hell aren't separate places, they are one in the same, lying inside of purgatory, wearing the nothingness like a skin. A mask for the truth of evil beneath.

Only through regret and retrospect can this be revealed, a change of perspective. That is when hell reveals itself and heaven is lost.

My home had collapsed in on itself, well mostly, the front was no longer structured in fact it is no longer anything more than debris. Splintered wood, twisted metal, even the large and clunky family tv from the living room. I make my way around the back, and kick down the back door, having forgotten my keys. I figured it doesn't really matter at this point.

My home looks relatively untouched, except for well... My point is rather mute. Finding myself famished, I walk into my kitchen and open a cupboard and grab whatever is closest, a can of chili. I didn't really want to test the fridge, since the electricity seems to be out. That would be a mess for sure. I eat quickly and breathe in my relief, mom was no where to be seen. She'd probably gotten away, she had to be safe, probably hiding out in the woods with the other survivors. If there are any, no, there had to be some.

I'll look after I finish my meal.

That doesn't take long, I decide to explore what remains of my home. The parlor, kitchen, basement, garage, and entire upstairs seems untouched. Except the stairs had been destroyed, along with the living room and games room. This is no problem, since I can easily climb to the second floor from outside, using a ladder from the garage.

I feel the urge to explore the rooms above, for no reason what's so ever. I obviously have time to kill, since no one seems to be around. I walk through the bedrooms of my brother and parents, looking for nothing in particular, pausing a bit at the family portrait in the hallway between our rooms. My brother obviously takes after my father, both obnoxiously blond and energetic, even in the still photo they both seemed to be vibrating. Then there was my mom and I, it is obvious who I take after. We both share the same close mouthed smile and large cheeks, however her brown eyes seem to glow with a gentle understanding and kindness, unlike mine.

I stare at the photo for a long time before I move onto my room. For no reason in particular.

My room is exactly how I left it, my clothes skrewn around the room, and my useless junk cluttering top of my desk and shelves. The clothes I had worn the day before rest on my unmade bed.

I had forgotten the existence of the egg entirely, honestly who could blame me. I chuckle to myself, if Barry had found out I left his egg to be amongst the attack of a deadly god he probably would want my head. Or not. It isn't really a situation one is in regularly.

I find myself laughing, hard. It was almost maniac in nature, and unlike a normal laugh it hadn't made me feel any better. I grab the egg, and tuck it under my arm. Without another thought I left, grabbing nothing else. Not even the portrait in my hallway in which I had stared at.

For no reason at all.

I don't look back at the home in which had sheltered me for the past eighteen years and I certainly don't wipe tears from my face and I definitely don't notice the crumpled bloodied body next on the sidewalk.

The eerie quiet was broken by a loud crash and the unmistakable sound of breaking wood. I follow the echo of sound, and found a tall thin silver building. No, buildings don't move. Upon closer inspection, the "building" became more serpent like, moving its body left and right in sway, mesmerizing yet terrifying. The serpent began to coil its tail under itself, as if it was ready to spring, even coiled the monster is colossal. Standing at almost 25 feet and about as wide as a dump truck and made almost entirely out of metal.

I don't think anything is scarier than a giant snake as wide as a dump truck and made out of metal. Honestly, try and top that.

Then it lunged, fire sprouting somewhere from its front, perhaps where its head is. Missing whatever it was it wanted to hit, the behemoth crashed into a house and basically split it in two. What ever remained of the house was completely annihilated by a beam of energy, to make it worse the monster used the energy beam like he was swatting at a fly, causing the beam to incinerate chunks of sidewalk and slice homes perfectly in half.

It took me a moment to realize what the beast was aiming for, practically the size of a fly compared to the massive pokemon, Mesprit dashed frantically around trying to avoid the certain death by hyper beam.

"I'd get out of here if I were you," a girl says, the voice is faintly recognizable and calm, as if the battle before us was a common sight. I turn to see someone I hadn't expected, well I guess I should get over suprises.

It was that silver haired girl from the pokemart, the one with the fucked up pants.

I think I said something intelligent like, "Rumaferg."

She ignored me and focused on the battle, Mesprit launched futile blasts of psychic energy into the steelix's belly, but the monster ignored them and leaped after the demon once more. Shakily I steady my grip on the egg and reposition it to be faced away from the fight.

"Go, Reily," the silver haired girl calls, tossing a pokeball into the fray. The pokemon that appeared is small, standing at a measly three feet. Its bigger than the Mesprit, but dwarfed compared to the steelix. Well so was I, but this pokemon more so.

The pokemon wears a red head dress which pops, compared to its thin sickly black skin. Long wicked curved claws stretch from its paws, they look ready to cut open someones belly and play around with their intestines. I recognize the pokemon as weavile, the sharp claw pokemon.

Reily the weavile darts towards the steelix, launching shards of ice like knives as it runs. Mesprit is paying to much attention to the 30 foot metal snake to notice the shards of ice, but definitely noticed when one of them pierced its abdomen. Distracted, the steelix is able to blind side the god-like pokemon with its tail, sending it crashing into a nearby house, actually it was the only one that had remained intact out of all of the others on the block.

Not anymore. The weavile catches up to the steelix and uses the long metallic body of the monster to climb, and using the monsters head as a springboard jumps, throwing more knife like shards of ice in the process and quickly preparing its claws. Mesprit blocks the oncoming onslaught of sharpened ice with a psychic blast, but failed to send Reily back with them.

The weasel esq pokemon swings its sharp claws wildly at Mesprit, who scrambles to dodge and avoid the attacks.

"What are you doing?" I ask the girl.

She brushes aside some of her silver hair and smirks, "My job."

"Your… Job?" I say aimlessly.

Her weavile corners Mesprit against a stone wall that once had supported a home, it was then that I realized what her job was, she hadn't come for the lake, Mesprit waking up and commencing a massacre wasn't a coincidence, even the random appearance of a steelix (which I know now is hers.)

It was all planned, no, it was known about and adequately dealt with. Someone had known this would happen and decided to take advantage of it. They wanted to kill the Mesprit.

Reily slashes Mesprit across the chest and draws blood, almost an instant later steelix crashes through the stone wall. Its massive jaws surround the emotion pokemon and prepare to clamp shut, when Mesprit vanishes. And not long after, they leave.

And I am alone.

* * *

**AN: No OC's this chapter, sorry. I'd been busy and had barely found some time to write, so if it feels a little off, I, again, am sorry. It had been an on and off again project. Next chapter I will introduce some OC's and stuff. I hope you guys like the story. Hehehe…**

**Review?**


	3. Truth

Its funny how fast things change, a world once viewed as a living Hell can easily change back into a mundane purgatory. And you almost forget that this world is a wolf in sheep's clothing. I have doubts as to whether this life I am living is even in reality, and not some sick dream. I question my sanity sometimes.

The very nice agent in the clean suit told me it was an earthquake, he told me that I made everything else up in my head and that I needed help. An earthquake, it made sense, it had to be what happened. Legends aren't truth, just stories, and stories can't kill 200 people, stories can't destroy entire structures, or twist steel. I believed him, no. I want to believe him.

Earthquakes don't turn people inside out.

I can't decide if I should accept the truth or accept blissful ignorance. Why had the agent told me a lie? Or was it really all in my head? I know my mental stability isn't the best, I mean I watched my town die, but why would I make up something worse than the truth? Why can't I trust the people in charge of our region? Everyone else can, blindly. But why can't I?

Is it because they lied?

My brother and father took it as the truth, they ignored my cries of defiance and passed me off as traumatized. They believed the agent in the clean suit, unconditionally even and looked at me with pity. I think it has something to do with blind trust in the hand that feeds, and you don't bite the hand that feeds.

But the hand lied.

The agent with the clean suit put me in a hospital, they gave me many pills. They hurt my stomach so I didn't take them, I would hide them under my tongue and when the nurse left I would flush them down the toilet. The agent would always come into my room and visit, he is very nice.

Everytime he visited he would ask about the "accident". I would tell him what happened and I would be given more pills and told to stop lying. Maybe the agent isn't so nice. I stopped telling the truth, like them. And the agent stopped visiting. And I didn't have to take anymore pills, and I was let go.

But I knew.

Barry found me an apartment in Jubilife City, it is small and strangely smells like feet and meowth pee. Dad sends me money in the mail, so I can pay for the room and buy things. I don't like the city much,it just seems sad and cold. The people don't say hello or even acknowledge each others is no kinship amongst the people.

I hadn't realized that would be something I'd miss, kinship. Funny really, without it the city just seems more lonely. I'm still alone. In a city filled with people, I am alone. My only neighbor is never home and I have only seen her twice, well her back side. All I know is that she is an actor or something. Jubilife is filled with them, and from what I over hear they are all awaiting a big chance. Or some critic to notice them and save their lives.

It seems a bit fruitless to me. Always waiting for someone to save you, why can't you save yourself? Why can't you just depend on yourself? I wonder if my mom waited for someone to save her. I wonder if that was me.

Will I ever be depended on again?

The egg hatched, up to that moment I thought I wanted to sell whatever it was. I guess my mind changed as I watched the infant fight its way through hard shell and placenta goop, I think I found it disgustingly beautiful. A mystery of life, as cliche as that is. Weird how one moment we can be stuck on something and the next be fixed on something entirely opposite.

It was small at first, and needed constant attention from the nurses. I was afraid that it might die, but apparently the newborn had to be fed every ten minutes. It was probably because of its species, I think that is what the nurse told me. It didn't really stop me from worrying.

When he first hatched, I could hold him in my palm, he was hairless and oddly pink, but within a week he had grown exponentially. I had to use both arms to cradle him, both due to his size and weight. I swear, he gained almost fifty pounds in a weeks time and had grown an entire foot, but apparently that is healthy. His fur began to grow in patches, little tufts of coarse greenish blue and tan.

I learned to accept his weight gain, even though I was shocked that he now weighed 231 pounds and had more rolls of fat than an obese man with seven necks. He had become more round and blob like, wide in the stomach and stubby everywhere else, like his stomach. It wasn't on par with the rest of his body and decided to keep growing anyways. His fur grew in thick, still coarse and stiff, now a dark navy blue with greenish hint, and a tan patch on his stomach.

Finally I was able to bring him back to the apartment. Except I was left with a problem, what am I supposed to name my munchlax?

It took me a week, but I settled on a name, my munchlax is to be known as Guy. I always failed in originality and even found myself disappointed. Especially since I referred to the munchlax as "Little Guy" for most of the week, it just stuck.

A few things that I learned fast.

One: Potty training is a priority. Guy poops like a dump truck, meaning he knows how to drop a load. I swear some of the things he dropped were bigger than my head, and all in the apartment, which now smelled a bit more _earthy. _

Two: Big eater pokemon is a classification for a reason, Guy had come close to eating me out of house and home, it was only when I realized that the pokemon center will supply free meals for pokemon was I safe. Pawning off his eating problem to them made my life a lot easier.

Three: Pokemon learn human words fast, not with the ability to speak them of course, but are able to understand what certain objects are called and what motions and words represent. I found the ability to be similar to an infant's ability to learn language and gestures by listening and watching their parents. I figure that a lot more can be achieved if I actually put in an effort to teach Guy things.

It's funny how fast things change, a wound that hurts so much easily heals and becomes a scar. Something you never wanted becomes your favorite treasure. Even something you couldn't accept, becomes a little more reasonable. And all that pain in which you had, hides itself under the surface, waiting for another opportunity to rear its ugly head.

And in the end, you just forget.

* * *

Heating is a marvelous gift from the gods, it started out with sparks that turned into fire and that fire into electric heating. It had to be at least eighty glorious degrees in the large room. I like the cold, but the chill the new winter months had brought in is on the verge of freezing half the region. And my apartment doesn't have a heater, only a microwave.

And trust me I won't use that to heat the apartment again. Ever.

Guy sat at my foot digging into a bowl of some unidentifiable brown pokemon food mush, it was his sixth and he showed no sign of slowing down. It was because of his monstrous appetite that I hugely appreciated pokemon centers. Built to accommodate many people, pokemon centers tend to be huge buildings, and they are. I currently stand in the lobby, which is an incredibly wide room, complete with two sitting areas that both have a flat screen tv and two plain white couches, as well as a nurses desk in the middle of the room. What you can't see, is the medical rooms complete with equipment for various procedures, a cafeteria, and three floors complete with ten rooms each that serve as living quarters for passerby trainers.

The thing I find most intriguing is that it is all non-profit. The personnel are all on volunteer shifts and give up their time, most likely forced to, to provide services for free. Of course they take in normal volunteers as well, but mostly the entire project is funded by the National Pokemon Leauge, a multi-billion dollar corporation that essentially runs the Pokemon Sports Leagues and merchandise.

I suppose it leads to more profit in their hands but still, its pretty cool.

Pokemon trainers aren't that bad, they all seem to be a special type of person. Quick to give up their assets for those more in need, willing to help one another, and ready to drop everything for the sake of battle. I always found the notion of becoming a trainer a tad bit wild, it seemed to me to be a all or nothing deal, you couldn't just do it as a hobby and if you gave up that was it. You were done. Nothing really left for you. I guess I found it sorta noble and have always respected the people who dedicated their lives to it.

A passion that I could never find, I suppose it's a reason I envy my brother.

Trainers huddle together on a couch and watch the television quietly, listening to a news woman speak. "It has been three months since a disastrous earthquake left Twinleaf Town in shambles, killing over two hundred citizens and over fifty still missing, our hearts go out to the families…"

My attention snaps away, focusing itself on an approaching figure. She is shorter than me, by quite a bit, average for a girl I suppose, and seems to be average in bust and rump. Her skin is light and seemingly soft to the touch, but half of her face seems hidden by her light brown hair, she parts it to the left, exposing one of her two hazel eyes. She wears a blue tank top and some light shorts, complemented by her knee high socks and blue boots. I didn't know they sold boots in blue.

She is cute and offers a smile as she approaches, not for me I might add.

"Hey Hope," I say in her general direction. She doesn't acknowledge me, instead she attacks Guy with a vice grip hug.

"Look at you! You are such a cutie~" she says, I can't help but notice her light accent, hailing from the old country. I do believe. Guy desperately swats at Hope, reaching out for the rest of his food, he lets out a small whine in desperation. Somehow, Hope is able to hold back a two hundred pound pokemon without much effort, she might be a bionic human.

Guy gives another desperate fumble for his food, but gives in and allows Hope to drag him into another hug. He stands there and takes it, I think she unintentionally taught my pokemon how to be a man. She sits criss cross on the floor and pulls Guy into her lap, so that she can properly pet him.

Hope is a volunteer nurse and had been there for Guy's birth and was on one of his feeding shifts. She had grown attached to him and absolutely loved it when he came by the pokemon center, then again she is like that for a lot of pokemon. So I don't think it is just specific to my munchlax.

A woman I vaguely recognized appeared on the television, she was a survivor from the "accident" and was having her five seconds of fame.

"I watched as the earth shook and my house collapsed in on itself, crushing my husband. It was the worst thing that could have ever happened…" she pauses and smiles at the camera.

"Terrible… Just terrible…" one of the trainers mutters.

"Horrible," another agrees.

"I heard that an entire family of four was crushed while praying," one says.

"What kind of god would do this?" another hisses.

"A bad one," I whisper so only I could hear.

Hope strokes Guy's fur aimlessly, my munchlax had given up hope on returning to his meal and had fallen asleep in her arms. She looks up at me, having followed my eyes prior, perhaps she had come to her own conclusions.

"Hey Al?" she asked, quiet. It's unlike her.

"Hmmm?" I answer.

"Have you ever thought about being a trainer?" she asked. Ok, maybe picking up on things wasn't her strong point, and perhaps this was way out in the left field of a question, but she is serious about it. So I might as well answer seriously.

I look forward, it would be lying to say I haven't, but at the time it just seemed like I would be mimicking my brother, and now it just seems… wrong.

"Not seriously," I say.

"Well, I get to travel and see so many places and cute pokemon, and if I become a coordinator I can show everyone who I am and display how cute, strong, and beautiful my pokemon are! But, it isn't so simple…" she says, drifting off into thought, maybe fantasy.

It makes sense, she is working at a pokemon center to be close to what she admires.  
"No buts, if it is something you want to do, do it," I say.

She looks up at me in a pout, "It isn't that easy."

I let out a yawn, "Honestly, if there is something you want, why not take it? I don't get why people don't just do it, I mean, people spend so much time making excuses, stop thinking about it so much and just live it."

Hope looks at me mouth agape, she is shocked to the point that she had let Guy go, he had resumed eating.

"Uh… thanks," she says.

I raise an eyebrow, "for what?"

She gives me a smile, "Oh nothing."

I sigh, people are confusing. I don't know why I try to understand them sometimes. I give Guy a light kick, to signal we are going to leave.

The munchlax looks up at me through slitted eyes, defiance in them. He wanted another bowl of food. Hope sent me a little glare for kicking the munchlax, I pass it off with a shrug.

"I'll get you some food on the way home," I say, ignoring his puppy eyes. I zip up my jacket to maintain some warmth and tighten my loose scarf around my neck. Guy gets up ready to follow me.

Hope clings to Guy one more time, "I'll miss you, come back soon." She gives Guy a firm squeeze, making my pokemon's eyes pop. Guy is able to break away and follows me to the sliding doors.

"Be careful, its chilly outside!" Hope calls to Guy.

"Later," I mumble, before stepping out into the harsh cold of the early winter. Guy is lucky, his fat and fur protects him from extreme cold and heat, they don't even seem to affect him and he is able to maintain his body temperature effectively. So essentially, the gently falling snow was the equivalent to a mid-summers day stroll.

I however can't handle the cold. It just chills me to the bones, I hate moving or being in it, I hate seeing my own breath, and I hate snow. Never have I been excited for a new coat, unlike many of the other children my age.

It seemed useless and cruel, do you even know the premise behind a snow ball fight? It is literally an excuse for kids to team up on the weird kids and pelt them with cold rocks and frozen dirt compacted beneath snow. It is all good fun.

I also hate how it somehow just seeps into your boots and melts right away. I hate wet socks more than anything else in this world. Obviously, I'm not a fan of snow.

I find it strange, the snow had come early this year, which has been unexpectedly cold. First snow was in late august, and it hasn't seemed to stop. Its almost october now. It seems fall is just being skipped over. These are strange times.

I had walked aimlessly, forgetting about buying Guy food, and ignoring the tall buildings and the others around me, like they ignored me. It seems like that is what happens when you are in the city for too long, one way or another you become like everyone else. I'm not sure if I am comfortable with the drone like mentality, but it happens nonetheless.

I had come home, and I wasn't alone.

The first person I noticed was a guy, he looked roughly my height, but definitely thinner and more intimidating, except for his hair. It is a strange orange, like some sort of dye incident. He gives me a hard and abrasive stare, sizing me up. I can help but notice the long scar on his forehead, he didn't seem like the type of guy I'd want to mess with.

Next to him, obviously dwarfed compared to the teen's height, stood a blonde girl. Her physique is obviously lacking, she seems scrawny and fragile, tiny compared to everything else. But her bluish gray eyes stared fierce, scaring me more than the boy next to her. They are eyes that had seen opposition and easily overcame it. She is dressed strange, even for the city, her body is covered by a knee length navy-blue trench coat, exposing her jeans and kick ass combat boots. Around her neck she wears a black scarf with silver specks on it, on her back was a noticeable case, for some sort of stringed instrument of average length, however I don't think she is the kind of person who would whip out the acoustic guitar and play Kumbaya.

I notice the sword strapped to her waist. I approach my apartment and the male offers me a slight snarl, walking towards me as if ready to exchange blows.

"No, he is the one we have been waiting for," the girl says, remaining stoic. I look at the man and can't help but let out a yawn, Guy had mimicked me. I don't think he liked that very much.

"Nice to meet you too," I say smugly to the guy before me. He spits at the ground towards my feet and steps back. I shrug.

"Who are you people?" I ask as I reach the door, unlock it and let Guy inside. I can only assume he had gone in and jumped on his chair.

"My name is Yekaterina Watson, but you may call me Wattson. I am a detective," she introduces.

"Ok, so who is he? Your partner?" I ask pointing to beef cake.

"My name is Max…" he begins to growl, but Watson cuts him off with a wave of the hand.

"A simple bodyguard, nothing more," she says. I can't help but notice we have a similar tone, bored. The man known as Max slinks back and scratches the back of his head, holding back his urge to curse and growl.

He kinda fits the dog esq persona.

"Don't take this as rude, but what the hell do you want from me?" I ask. I see a noticeable twitch in Watson's eyebrow. Irritation?

"I have come to talk to you in private," she says, then turns to Max.

"Please excuse us," she says to Max with a slight bow. Max rolls his eyes and leans against a rail.

"Whatever," he mutters.

I let the strange girl into my apartment, and notice immediately as she recoils. Sure my place wasn't that clean, with a couple microwave dinner packets lying empty here and there, and yeah I know it isn't much, a simple tv, a futon, a chair, a mini fridge, and even a microwave. I mean it isn't anything bad, except for that _earthy_ smell. Nothing recoil worthy.

I lean against a wall and she seats herself on my futon, the only chair having been taken by Guy, whom was currently sleeping. Again.

"So, what is it you want, Ms. Detective," I say.

She straightens herself to sit high, "I have come to discuss the events that conspired in Twinleaf Town three months ago."

"I see, well, what do you want to know?" I ask.

"Well, please, tell me what you know, or what you may have been told about the event," she clarifies.

I sigh and lean into the wall, and stare into her eyes. They seem to be looking for something, scanning over every detail, trying to solve the epic puzzle. She is trying to find the truth.

"I was told, that it was an earthquake," I say, letting out a breath.

The glow in her eyes seemed to dim, and disappointment littered her frown.

"But, that was a lie, the truth is far worse," I say continuing. She looks me in the eye, serious as can be.

"Tell me everything."

* * *

**AN: How was the chapter? I know it is a bit of a change from the usual massacre type of stuff I had written in the previous chapters, don't worry, shit will go down. Did I do ok with the OC's?**

**Max belongs to Wolfgirl12390 ( I kinda added stuff ;) )**

**Hope belongs to SkyTheGreat, and**

**Yekaterina Watson belongs to Generic Person the Fifth.**

**I hope I used them well. Anything I need to work on with character interactions? Did I do the good? (Acknowledge me sempai.) (Ignore that.)**

**How do you guys feel about the integration of romance? Yay Or Nay?**

**Anyways, more OC's soon, and more info on the ones already introduced. Also Guy. Nuff Said.**

**Review!**


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